


if you can hold on

by cherryvanilla



Category: Actor RPF, Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dominatrix, BDSM, Character Study, F/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Painplay, Romance, Sexual exploration, apprehension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:11:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes Johnny until he’s nearly twenty-six to finally buckle down and admit to himself he’s just not happy when it comes to sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you can hold on

**Author's Note:**

> I was in a crappy mood one night and asked imp to tell me a KStew/Tazer story and she twit-ficced me KStew as a dominatrix and Tazer as himself, who’s trying to figure shit out and he ends up falling for her and eventually they go on a lot of dates and she ties him up a lot. It stuck with me for days afterward, and basically she ruined me and I had to write 20ks of it, apparently. 
> 
> So thanks to imp for the inspiration and cheerleading. Sorry it took me so long to write you that edging scene you’d originally asked for ages ago. 
> 
> This draws upon KStew’s comments about acting as a form of wearing masks and also [this](http://monalisasnmadhatters.tumblr.com/post/63682586680/you-should-have-the-opportunity-to-be-more-than)  
> which basically sums up the characterization, and even the visual fits perfectly. 
> 
> Thanks a million to darthtulip, shaded_sun and zanzando for beta and audiencing. 
> 
> Title by The Killers. 
> 
> Graphics: 

It takes Johnny until he’s nearly twenty-six to finally buckle down and admit to himself he’s just not happy when it comes to sex. Sure, it’s always good but it’s not -- satisfying, if that makes sense. He’s tried to ignore it for the most part, but as the years have gone on it’s become more and more difficult. 

The first time he ever brought it up to a partner was his girlfriend in college.

"So, like, you want to spank me?" she said, looking intrigued.

"Um." Johnny rubbed at his neck. "More like -- the other way around?"

He still has trouble blocking out memory of the look on her face before she smoothed it over.

“That’s… not really my thing, Johnny, but I’d be up for trying it the other way?” 

He got that it wasn't for everyone, but Johnny still ended up suffering from near crippling embarrassment, flushing to his ears and nodding, unable to meet her eyes. 

They ended up trying out Johnny slapping her ass while she rode him. It's not like it wasn't hot, but he had no desire to do things like tie her up, which was something he'd thought about having done to _himself_ constantly. Johnny ended up not being able to come while they fucked and got her off with his mouth instead, even as the mortification built up inside him. She tried to reciprocate but it just wasn’t going to happen, not with his brain working like crazy. 

They didn’t last much longer after that incident. Johnny's aware enough now to know that he probably should have been more open in his communication, but he just couldn’t bring it up again. 

It took him a long time to ever mention it to someone else, which mostly had to do with his increasing popularity along with continually advancing social media. He had severe anxiety over picking someone up at a bar and the next day finding shit on Deadspin or web forums about ‘Jonathan Toews’ Kinky Sex Desires’. 

When he did finally bring it up again, it was to his next serious girlfriend. She indulged him a bit, but Johnny just couldn’t relax enough or even fully express what he wanted. Anytime they attempted something it would take on a rather playful edge. And while he did like having fun in bed, that wasn’t what he was looking for in this regard. 

“Regular sex just isn’t fucking doing it for you, and anything we try just… doesn’t seem to be enough,” she said eventually. “I don’t know how to be what you want, Johnny. I’m not some dominatrix.” 

“That’s not -- I don’t. I’m sorry.” 

She picked up her bag, kissed him on the cheek, and walked to the door. “I’m sorry, too.”

A few weeks later, after a lot of drinking, alone in his apartment on off nights, Johnny finally fights through the waves of embarrassment he feels at typing in things like BDSM and spanking into his web browser, and just -- explores. He considers it a step in the right direction, and he’s been able to discern more or less the things he’s absolutely interested in from the stuff that makes his dick wilt, but putting these things into practice is a whole other story. 

Johnny manages to step foot into a BDSM club when they’re on the road in L.A., but he’s tense as fuck. The rooms are surveyable and there isn’t anything overtly sexual going on in terms of mouths on bodies or anything -- but it’s still nerve-racking. Johnny watches as a woman runs a feather brush down a dude who is blindfolded and tied to a chair. Heat flares behind his eyes and his breathing turns shallow; he nearly sprints out of the club. It doesn’t matter if it isn’t Chicago, doesn’t matter if it’s unlikely that anyone would notice him here. He’s always been a pretty private person and the thought of details about his sex life getting out… well, it honestly makes him wish he weren’t a recognizable figure. 

He goes back to the hotel and jerks off, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut, wishing his hands were tied behind his back, that someone was sitting across his thighs and pressing him down, teasing his dick with their fingertips. 

It’s finally become too much to deal with inside his head, night after night of wanting something that he doesn’t know how to ask for, doesn’t know who to get it from. 

“What the hell is your problem?” Kaner asks when they’re back in Chicago, playing video games on Johnny’s couch. “Is it the breakup? It’s been like two months, dude, and you’re still all weird.” 

Johnny shakes his head. “No. And fuck you, I’m not.” 

“We’ve been playing Mario Kart for a fucking hour and you haven’t yelled once…” 

Johnny pauses the game and takes a swig of beer, sighing internally. “I’m just a little… off.” 

“No shit.” Kaner nudges his arm. “What gives?” 

Johnny sneaks a glance at him, biting his lip. He nearly talked to Seabs about it the other night, but he was worried that Seabs would like -- see him differently or something. It's not that he's ashamed exactly, but Johnny looks up to Seabs like a brother and if it fucked with their dynamic… 

Him and Kaner, though -- they respect one another for sure, but they’re on more of an even keel. Besides, it’s always been pretty easy to talk to Kaner. 

Johnny takes another drink. “I -- I’m just… trying to work out a few things. Uh, sexually.” 

Kaner stares at him like a gaping fish before clearing his throat. Clearly he wasn't expecting that. “Like, dudes and shit? Because that’s cool, man.” 

Johnny shakes his head. “No, like. Like control stuff. Um, bondage and uh, submission.” 

Now Kaner’s mouth has dropped completely open and Johnny’s skin feels itchy. 

“Wow… I never thought you’d be uh, that kinky. When we’d watch porn together it was always so vanilla.”

Johnny shrugs, uncomfortably. 

“Hey, that’s cool, though. Like -- to them or to you?” 

“To me.” 

Kaner lets out a breath. “Fuck, you’re full of surprises, man.” 

Johnny laughs, feeling a bit manic. “Yeah, well. Point is, I don’t exactly know how to… go about this.” 

They both sit back against the cushions, beers in hand and Johnny gets to talking -- circling around details and just… trying to express why this is so hard for him.

“Makes sense,” Kaner says. “You like to be in control, man. And sure, you know how to have a good time but -- you clearly need to let go in this area, especially since it’s something you want.” 

Johnny nods, jerkily. “I don’t know how, though. Nothing I’ve tried has worked, not even with people I’ve really cared for and trusted. And, like I said, going to a public place and meeting some stranger just isn’t going to cut it.” 

“So why not hire someone or something?” 

Johnny frowns, considering. “What, like a hooker?” 

“Not exactly? Maybe like -- a dominatrix or something? Those exist in real life, right?” 

Johnny laughs, thinking about how his ex said the same thing. At the same time, nerves settle in his belly. “I guess so? How do you even find someone like that, though?”

Kaner snorts. “I dunno, man, you’re talking to a guy whose craziest shit he’s ever done is anal and fuzzy handcuffs from Spencers. And to the girl, at that. Call Brisson or something.” 

Johnny's cheeks feel like they're on fire. “Come on, Kaner, that’s too weird. He’s our manager, for Christ’s sake.” 

Kaner stares at him, pointedly. “You’re the one all about discretion, dude. You got a better idea?” 

The thing is, aside from forgetting the whole thing, Johnny really doesn’t.  
_______________________

The phone call to his agent is one of the most uncomfortable events of Johnny’s life. Brisson, the consummate professional he is, doesn’t ask many questions besides the pertinent ones, saying he’ll make some inquiries and get back to him. 

He calls about an hour later with the name and number of a high class escort service that prides itself on discretion. 

“Call that number and ask for Kenny. He’ll take care of you.” 

“Thanks. I mean it.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Just keep it out of the press, okay?"

"Will do."

Kenny gauges what he’s looking for in terms of content and then asks him if he has any physical preferences. Johnny, already blushing over the details he’s just had to give, nearly rattles off his usual type but stops himself.

"No. Surprise me."

He figures it's a small allowance for lack of control, but it's something nevertheless. 

Kenny calls him back a few days later. “Her name is Kristen and she specializes in what you’re looking for. She’s great. I’ve set you up with a hotel that’s low key. You said Friday was good, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

They play Thursday night but not again until Sunday. 

“Alright, she’ll be there by 8. Brisson faxed me over your blood work so you’re cleared on that end. And I’ve already run your card. No refunds.” 

Johnny nearly snorts at the warning in his voice. “It’s fine. Thanks.” 

“Have fun.”  
_________________________

Johnny’s not sure he’s ever experienced nerves like this before. Not even before his first NHL game or the 2010 gold medal game. He has no idea what to wear, no idea what _she’ll_ be wearing (although some colorful images have certainly flitted through his mind). 

There’s a knock on the door at 8pm sharp. Johnny fiddles with the hem of his plaid button-down once more, and runs a hand through his hair (which is getting long again, he probably should’ve cut it) before crossing to the door. 

He looks down to find a woman, close to his age, maybe 5'4" and dressed in a white t-shirt and black leggings. She has light red hair and is sporting dark eyeliner and pink lipstick.

"You must be Jonathan," she says with a quirk to her lips and a dryness in her voice that implies she knows exactly who he is.

"Johnny," he corrects. "Kristen, right?" He moves to let her in. 

"Yep. Nice digs. Never been to this hotel before."

Johnny watches as she turns back to face him, looking him up and down. He can’t get his mouth to work. 

“Alright, dude, you're staring. If I'm not what you had in mind you could've been specific.”

Johnny shakes his head, jaw snapping shut. "No, you're just. You're just not what I was expecting,” he says, finally. _I feel like I could probably break you in two, yet you're supposed to be the one in control here_ , is what he doesn't voice. 

She grins, like she knows exactly what he's thinking.

"What were you expecting? Some Amazon in 9 inch heels dressed like Michelle Pfeiffer in _Batman_?”

Johnny's lips twitch. "Something like that."

She holds up her bag. "The night is still young, buddy."

Johnny swallows, hard. His throat suddenly feels parched. "You want some water or something?" he asks, crossing to the kitchen area. 

"Nah, I'm good, man."

She's so... casual, treating him like some dudebro. Johnny thought dominatrixes were supposed to be... domineering.

Suddenly fingers are snapped in front of him.

"Hey!" she says, standing in front of him. 

Johnny blinks down at her stern face. 

"You're lost in thought already. Turn off your mind, okay?"

Johnny's jaw twitches. 

"Kenny gave me the rundown, standard protocol. Said this is about you figuring shit out, so how about you let me help with that.”

Her voice gets a little soft at the end but it's still a command. He's surprised by how much he likes it, even though it scares him. 

“Do you know what you want tonight?”

Johnny shakes his head. 

"Wanna start basic, then? Some handcuffs?" 

Johnny swallows, nodding. 

Kristen’s mouth relaxes into a half smile. “Okay, on the bed. Get as undressed as you feel comfortable. If you want your clothes on, that’s fine too.” 

Johnny watches as she picks up her bag and heads to the bathroom. He sits on the bed, feeling like he’s just been boarded. He really doesn’t know how naked he wants to get; nerves have replaced everything else, the moment of arousal he felt before at Kirsten's words fading fast. He decides on taking off his shoes, socks, pants and shirt and leaving on his white undershirt and black boxer briefs. Johnny’s hands shift tentatively to the headboard, dragging his fingers loosely along it, taking in the coolness of the brass. His breath hitches at the thought of being restrained. 

He tries to relax back against the pillows but feels too tense and keeps shifting positions, crossing and uncrossing his legs at the ankle, tightening his grip on the bed. 

He hears the snick of a lock and then Kristen’s in his sight line and -- in a one piece corset with red lace weaving up the front. Her legs are covered in thigh high sheer stockings, garters attaching them to the corset, and she’s wearing black heels. She’s holding a box as she stops in front of the bed before placing it on the floor, bending to give him a great view of her cleavage.

Johnny’s throat runs dry again and he hastily moves to get a water bottle. 

“Sorry,” he says when he returns. She’s holding the cuffs now. 

“That's fine, I was gonna suggest it anyway.”

He nods, taking a large gulp. 

“You, uh. l like your outfit.” 

She laughs, loud and bright. It’s a really nice sound. 

“I’m gonna put these on you. Are you ready?”

Johnny nods, holding his hands in position against the headboard. 

She climbs onto the bed to do it, standing with her legs spread, straddling his chest. Johnny inhales sharply, looking up at her, taking in the curve of her hips, the way her perfume smells -- like fresh roses. She moves away when she’s done, back off the bed. The cuffs feel fine until he tugs a little and realizes he’s obviously helpless in that regard. 

“If you need water, you ask me. If you want to stop at any moment, you say a word of your choosing. Tell me the word now.” 

“Blade,” he replies, immediately. 

She nods. “Do you know what you want?” 

Johnny shakes his head. 

“Do you want me to tell you what you want?” 

He shakes it again, but not before hesitating slightly. 

“What have you thought about?” 

His mind flashes on the club he went to -- the way that woman teased that guy. He isn’t sure he’s ready for the blindfold but… 

“Do you have, like, a feather brush?”

Her lips quirk, before evening out. “I might. If you ask me properly.” 

“Ma’am,” Johnny says, immediately. 

Kristen smiles, like he’s done a good job and he flushes to the tips of his ears. 

She gets it out and crawls onto the bed, running it slowly up Johnny’s legs, the insides of his calves, his thighs. He closes his eyes but freezes, feeling too lost. 

“Okay?” 

Johnny nods, staring at the ceiling now. His arms are starting to get stiff and his mouth is dry. She brushes it over his crotch and he bites down on his lip. She does it again and again, teasing. But -- nothing. 

“Jesus fuck,” he grits out, disgusted. 

“Look at me, Johnny.” 

Her tone leaves no room for anything else, but it's difficult to manage nonetheless. 

Kristen’s sitting back on her heels, thighs brushing against his legs. She’s fucking beautiful. 

“It isn’t always about sex,” she says, calmly. “A lot of my scenes don’t even end in orgasms. You’re not _failing_ because you don’t have a hard-on, okay?” 

Johnny’s face twists and he curls his fingers against the cuffs. 

“I’m not fucking bullshitting you here,” she says, firmly. “This is about figuring out what works for you, both mentally and physically. So, what gives? How’s it making you feel?” 

“Frustrated,” Johnny bites out.

“Because you can’t get it up?” 

He winces. “Because I can’t fucking _move_ ,” he says, straining against the cuffs. 

“You don’t want to move, though,” Kristen replies, evenly, not a question. “You know the safe word, man.” 

“I…” He doesn’t, she’s right, but he also can’t relax. At all. Something about the way Kristen slips into that casual ease with him, though, makes the tightness in his chest loosen again. It keeps throwing him for a loop -- the way she’s so firm and business-like yet uses slang like he’s one of her friends. He wonders if she’s like that with everyone. 

“This isn’t working,” Johnny admits. “I want the blindfold.” 

He isn’t totally sure he does, actually, but he wants to try. Also he’s hoping to just lose himself in the sensations. 

“Okay,” Kristen replies, but she sounds less than convinced. He just nods to reassure her. She heads back to her bag but not before pausing to slowly remove her heels. Johnny can’t stop staring at her legs, his eyes following her hands. 

Kristen smirks at him as she drops the shoe. “You got a foot fetish?” 

“Huh?” Johnny says, shaking himself. “Uh, no.” 

Kristen laughs, easing off her other shoe. “You’d be surprised how many people do.” 

Johnny shrugs as best he can, biting his lip at the sight of her. He’s definitely getting a little hard now; he’s grateful his dick hasn’t abandoned him alltogether. 

Kristen returns to the foot of the bed and crawls up it, a piece of black silk in her hand. He honestly can’t get enough of the way she looks when she’s doing that, eyes all focused and intense, her breasts pushing up against the corset. 

She hovers right near his face, staring at him, and Johnny would really love to kiss her but he has no idea what’s exactly allowed here. Obviously she has sex with clients but -- he just has no idea what he’s doing, is all. He’s used to mutual interest and hookups and everything being a lot clearer than they are right now. 

Then the soft fabric is over his eyes and Johnny hitches in a breath, feeling her fingers brush against his skull as she ties it. 

“You’re doing great,” she whispers. “Water?” 

Johnny nods, tension rising in his body. It’s an awkward angle but the water feels good against his lips. Some of it spills onto his neck and he feels her fingers swipe at the liquid. Then her hands glide down his arms, all the way to his fingertips. Johnny sucks in another breath, stomach tensing. The feather brush follows the path her hand just took, before switching to his left arm. 

He tries to lose himself in the sensations but he just can’t relax. He’s finally fully hard, at least, but it doesn’t feel like any sort of victory. Johnny can feel her thighs against him, wants to push upward but stays put. Kristen’s whispering words of encouragement as the brush teases him again, telling him how good he’s doing, standard scene shit that he’s read about. His brain can’t turn off, though -- the way it feels as he flexes his arms, the way he can’t see anything but darkness and small cracks of light, the way he’s letting go of all control right now. It's scary, no matter how much he craves it. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” Kristen asks, a million years later. Her voice sounds deeper, hotter, and Johnny really hopes it isn’t just boredom or something. He wants -- 

“Yes,” he says, and when nothing happens, adds, “Ma’am.” 

"Good," she says softly, and then there’s a warm hand slipping inside his underwear and gripping him roughly. Johnny hisses at the pressure, too hard to be comfortable, but feels pre-come spurt from his dick nonetheless. Kenny did ask a few general questions to gauge what he was wanting and pain was something he mentioned. 

Johnny feels his legs tense as she says, “Don’t move,” and he has to bite down on his bottom lip. He considers saying the word, feeling too fraught with tension, almost angry at what she’s taking away from him right now, but he wants this all the same, wants to see it through.

It’s taking him forever to come and he's suddenly terrified it will be a repeat of that time in college. Kristen twists her wrist and flicks the brush over his balls and even behind but he can’t let go of the lingering tightness coiled like a wire inside him. Her nails drag against the head of his dick and he hisses, letting out a low moan. The soft sounds now falling from his lips seem to set Kristen into action. Her knees brush against the insides of his thighs as she apparently shifts on the bed, and her hand works faster, squeezing hard and tight. Johnny screws his eyes shut even harder, huffing out a long, unsteady breath, and finally comes. Except his mind is too all over the place, his body like a string being pulled, and his orgasm is -- weak. He barely even processes it. 

Johnny sighs heavily when Kristen’s hand stops pumping and almost wishes she could disappear so he doesn’t have to face inevitably having to look at her. 

“I’m going to take the blindfold off and uncuff you,” Kristen says, voice a little uneven. Or maybe it’s his imagination. Johnny nods and nearly jumps at the feel of her fingers. 

“Shh,” she soothes and that -- that feels nice, when she massages the back of his head for a moment. Comforting. Johnny can’t exactly meet her gaze full on, looks at her off-center, dragging his tongue over his teeth. The cuffs coming off feels strange. He thought he’d experience more relief, given how uptight he was, but it almost feels as though he’s ungrounded now. 

Kristen pads out of the room and when she returns it’s with a damp cloth. She presses it against each of his wrists. 

“You did well,” she says, quietly but still firm. 

Johnny wants to argue; he still can’t meet her eyes. It had taken him at least 30 minutes to come and that’s just… really fucking embarrassing. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice dry and hoarse. “I guess that was… pretty boring for you.” Her own wrist probably aches like fuck. 

Kristen rolls her eyes, squeezing his hand. “It was your first time. You seriously need to relax.” 

Johnny snorts. That’s exactly the problem. 

“Thanks. But, uh, I think maybe you should go,” he says, defeated. It’s probably completely dickish but he can’t -- this was... 

“Sure,” she says, not sounding put out in the least. 

He hastily cleans up the mess on his stomach while she’s in the bathroom. When she reappears, changed, it’s almost as though the whole thing never happened. 

“Well. Maybe I’ll see you around,” she says at the door. 

Johnny wants to agree but he can’t, still reeling from how this didn’t seem to go the way he wanted it to. 

He holds the door open for her and she pauses in the hall. “Don’t beat yourself up so much,” she says, softly, like a request. 

Johnny’s breath catches in his throat and he nods minutely, before closing the door.  
____________________

Johnny's a bit out of it for the next few days, mind completely jumbled until he decides to chalk the whole thing up to being a fluke. Maybe he just thought this was something he needed but in actuality he was wrong. Maybe he just needs to fantasize about it and not apply it. He throws himself into the first round of the playoffs, and goes out drinking alone when they lose in 5. He also hooks up that night, except the sex is once again unsatisfying, even more so than the night with Kristen which is saying a lot since he could barely unwind enough to come.

The thing is, when he's with Melissa he just keeps thinking about Kristen. The way her nails felt on his skin, the rumble of her voice as she whispered encouragement. Johnny's well aware that the moments in which his dick really strained were when there was some pain and he wants... he wants.

But he pushes it away and instead decides to watch a lot of porn, each time thinking it’s her he's seeing on screen, regardless of what the women look like. He finally buckles a week later and calls Kenny. Part of it has to do with the season being over and the team not making it as far as they wanted, Johnny is well aware. He’s not willing to go back to Winnipeg right now, just wants to enjoy Chicago. It’s a bummer, especially after the cup last year and Olympic gold but he also knows it’s the Olympics that totally fucked them up, too. 

They meet in the same place and when he opens the door she's wearing leather pants and a white tank top. It looks a little casual, less artificial, at least compared to his memories of last time. 

"Gotta say, I'm really surprised to see you again," she says with a slight smirk that he’s oddly grown accustomed to already. 

“Yeah, uh. Sorry. About last time.”

“Dude, it was cool. You gonna invite me in?” she adds, amused, a few seconds later when Johnny hasn't moved from his spot in front of the door.

He nods, jerkily. “Yeah, yes. Come in.”

She's got her bag again, of course, and he swallows at the sight of it. She places it on the chair and looks up at him, expectantly. 

"You look nice," he manages to get out, awkwardly, but nevertheless.

Kristen smirks again, but also looks at him like she's considering something. "Is that your way of saying you want to kiss me?" she asks, finally. 

"Yes, Ma'am," Johnny says, stomach in his throat.

"You're learning,” she replies, almost delighted, as she pulls him down by his arms and breathes against him. Johnny closes the distance, holding in a sigh as their mouths meet. Her lips are soft and slick and taste like watermelon lip gloss. He learns the shape and feel of them before parting his own and sucking her bottom lip into his mouth. Kristen makes a hitching noise and it gives him the courage to kiss her harder, inch his tongue out. She meets it immediately, a soft, plush push, and then they're no longer holding back, licking into each others’ mouths with an intensity that surprises him. _This is what was missing that first night_ , he thinks, as his dick hardens beneath his shorts. _This is what I needed._ But at the same time....

"Is this okay?" Johnny asks, breathlessly, kissing his way along her jawline. 

"It's all part of the gig," she replies, a little amused but not entirely steady. The words make him freeze and he's thrown back to a reality in which he's paying her to be here like this. It's not like he forgot and it's not like he expected her to automatically want him or something, but still.

"Relax," she says, in her commanding voice, and grips his forearms hard, nails digging into bare skin, "This is good."

It's the consent he needed, wasn't even aware he was waiting for, and he kisses her again, arms wrapping around her back. Her mouth is hot like fire and she tastes amazing as they bite at each others’ lips, setting a brutal pace of harsh, wet kisses that seem to go on forever. Johnny's leaking in his briefs and can barely breathe as she keeps clutching his arms and shoulders, hard, almost enough to bruise. He loves how unexpectedly strong she is and he wants, he...

"I want you to hurt me,” Johnny gasps out as he's stringing kisses down Kristen’s neck and collarbone.

He feels her suck in a breath. "Hands or toys?"

He pauses, considering. Maybe he went too far the first time, pushed too much. "Hands," he says, decisively. 

She steps out of his grip and pulls her hair back off her shoulder. "Okay."

The light in the room is soft, just the bedside lamp, but he can still see the flush of color high on her cheeks. It makes him swallow hard and clench his hands in want. He wonders vaguely if she’s dating someone, what type of person she'd go for, if she leaves all the extras at work.

"Turn your mind off," Kristen says, sharply, and Johnny finds himself obeying unhesitatingly. 

"Cuffs again?" she asks. 

"Yeah."

"Okay. On the bed," Kristen orders, before grabbing a bottle of water and setting it down.

She hesitates near her bag. "Is this outfit alright? Because I can change."

It's the first time he's ever heard her sound insecure. In fact, she sounds like a completely different person, like a director's called cut and the scene has stopped. It makes his chest expand. 

"You look great." 

“Not my usual threads for these things,” Kristen admits. She smiles at him then, a genuine, unguarded smile that takes him by surprise. He's about to return it but it’s gone a second later. 

"Take your clothes off."

Johnny's dick leaps. It's so unlike last time, when she gave him the option, and he finds he wants nothing more than to obey.

It's weird undressing while she watches him, almost clinically. He settles back onto the bed, fully aware of his dick straining against his stomach, and lifts his hands to the headboard. It feels like surrender and he has to close his eyes as it washes over him, something locking in place inside him, like this is where he belongs, this is where he wants to be. It's terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

Kristen is staring at him when he opens his eyes, and he can't for the life of him read her expression. 

Then she strips off her tank top, revealing her black bra. "Figured I'd give you something back,” she says, dryly. 

Johnny nods, staring at the bare skin of her stomach and then taking in the way her nipples are pointed and hard. 

Kristen slips the cuffs on before straddling him immediately. Her nails rake down his arms, then back up, again and again and he hisses at the feel of it.

She bends her mouth to place biting kisses down his chest, lingering at his nipples, pulling on one and then the other, sharply. Johnny swallows a groan, his dick twitching. He wants to wind his fingers in her hair but he can’t. He’s glad he can see her though, watch her mouth as it glides lower, shiny with lip gloss and saliva. Johnny’s nails cut into his palms as she digs her own into the jut of his hip bone. Her mouth is on his torso now, dragging along his skin until she reaches his pubic hair. Johnny inhales, tensing, and nearly sobs when she licks along the base of his dick. It feels better than anything has in a long time, as do her fingers as she drags angry marks up and down his thighs. 

Kristen licks slowly up his cock and closes her mouth around the head while Johnny gasps for breath. He feels his dick grow harder as she sucks him down, hard and fast, her tongue so wickedly talented he can barely see straight. His hips arch upward on their own accord but the second they do she slaps his leg, hard. Johnny’s dick spurts out pre-come and he’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t so fucking turned on. He doesn’t move again but he-- 

“I want. Want you to....” 

Her eyes meet his as she keeps sucking and Johnny groans audibly at the sight. 

She pulls off, breathing against the tip, squeezing the base of his dick way too hard. “Say it,” she says, firmly. 

Johnny sucks in a breath. “I want you to hit me, Ma'am.” 

Her hand loosens, like she’s not going to listen to him, like she’s going to make him beg and shit, he would. It’s like a shock to his system and he feels all lit up inside, ready to ask for anything she wants him to. Then her hand comes down hard on the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, so close to his balls. His stomach muscles tense but he otherwise doesn’t move an inch, holding himself stock still. Johnny screws his eyes shut as she drags her tongue down his cock, deep throating him. She slaps him again, this time with her other hand, before alternating. He wonders why he’s doing this, why he needs it so bad. It’s not about punishment; it’s deeper than that. It’s like it takes him to another level of need and intensity. It puts him literally in someone elses’ hands. 

She catches his balls once or twice and it hurts like hell but he’s also harder than he’s been in months and he might die at the feel of her mouth, so hot and tight, working him over while she hits him harder with every passing moment, slapping at his stomach, his legs, his flank. 

Johnny’s moaning louder now, sucking in shallow breaths as sweat drips down his face, his arms aching from the cuffs. After another particularly hard slap while Kristen’s tongue teases along his slit, his legs tense. 

“I’m… I’m going to…”

She doesn’t stop and instead speeds up, sucking him down even harder as his dick pulses and he comes in her mouth on a long, strangled cry. She soothes her hands up his thighs and pulls off, licking her lips. There’s come on the corner of her mouth and her eyes are dark, her cheeks flushed. 

Kristen braces her hands on his chest, legs on either side of him, and bends to kiss him. Johnny opens to her immediately, tasting himself on her tongue. The kiss is searing hot and he strains against the cuffs. He wants so much, but he’s not sure he can ask for it. Doesn’t know where the lines are drawn. She sighs a little against his mouth and fucks him with her tongue before pulling back and bringing her hands to her zipper. He swallows, hard. 

“You want this?” 

Johnny nods, shakily. “Yes.” 

“Okay,” she says, sliding her zipper down slowly and popping open the button. “We’re gonna do it my way. You can’t touch. And you’re gonna let me fuck your face. If that isn’t okay, you know what to say.” 

“Please,” is his only response, and Johnny knows he sounds desperate, feels his cheeks burn. 

Kristen grins, stands up and slides down her pants, revealing a black thong. 

“Think you can get me off with just your mouth?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” 

She eases off her underwear and Johnny's eyes linger over her shaved cunt. “You sure? Otherwise I’ll have to punish you.” 

She walks up the bed on either side of him, pausing near his shoulders, before squatting down, hovering right near his mouth.

“I can. I will,” Johnny responds confidently, even though he partly wants to fail just to see what she has in store for him. The majority of him wants to make her come, though. She’s so put together, only expressing bare minimal signs of pleasure and Johnny wants to know it’s real; wants her to cry out as she shoves her pussy in his face. Kristen eases down those few extra inches, gripping his wrists and she moans immediately as he licks a slow line up her center. She smells clean and her skin is hot and smooth, tasting salty sweet. Johnny licks at her broadly with his tongue and hears a soft sound leave her lips, before he fucks up into her, making her cry out sharply. Her hands encircle his wrists, squeezing hard and Johnny has to pull back a little to breathe before focusing in on her clit. 

Kristen starts fucking his face with purpose and it’s so blindingly hot, her hands on him, the roll of her hips and the soft sounds she seems to be holding back with every push forward. When he feels her come around him it’s like scoring a game winning goal, sweet victory and happiness flowing through him. She doesn’t make as much noise as he’d hoped but she’s still breathing hard and shaking as she pulls back. He looks up at her, licking his lips, his face wet, only to find her staring at him with an intensity he didn’t expect. Johnny feels self-conscious, like he fucked up somehow. He opens his mouth to apologize but she’s moving away and off the bed, shrugging into her underwear before walking to the bathroom. 

He watches her ass as she goes, because he’s only human, and wants to get his hands on it. He also wants to see her tits; she’s still got the bra on. Kristen returns with a washcloth and drags it over the red skin of his legs and torso. She takes her time, silent in her ministrations, not meeting his eyes. Johnny’s skin feels prickly, his body suddenly a little tense. He’s finding he wants her praise but is starting to doubt he deserves it. Maybe it wasn’t good for her. 

She finally undoes the cuffs and gently massages his wrists with the washcloth before handing him the bottle of water. 

“Thank you,” he says, voice used and rough. 

“You were good, Johnny,” she says and he has to stop himself from beaming. 

Kristen turns to pull on her pants and shirt before tossing him his boxers. 

Johnny tries not to feel disappointed but it’s not like she was going to stay the night. He’ll probably head back to his own apartment, anyway. 

Standing at the door, he feels on edge again. 

“Thank you,” he says, sincerely. “This was… I mean, it’s never--” 

He struggles to find the words as nothing will even come close to what he wants to express. What she gave him tonight is what he’s never had with anyone else. And maybe he’s been looking in the wrong places or maybe it’s just this whole setup they’ve got going but either way it’s… incredible. 

“I’m glad.” And she really sounds it, is the thing. 

“I’d like to,” he stops, clearing his throat. “I’d really love to see you again.”

Kristen smirks a little. “You know Kenny’s number, man.” 

Johnny stops himself from wincing, but just barely. It’s so easy to forget with her that this is a business transaction. And he knows it isn’t plausible, and maybe even a little creepy, but he wishes he could get her number. Then he reminds himself there are probably a bunch of people who wish for the same thing and why the hell should he be special. He’s feeling like a loser now and something must show on his face because she’s frowning.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

Kristen nods. “Good. Anyway, uh, glad this, you know, worked for you. It was…” 

She trails off then, shuffling her feet a little. It’s the second time he’s seen her unsure and throws him for a loop, makes him wonder if underneath it all she could be just as awkward as he can be at times. It seems impossible given the persona she projects but he supposes he does the same thing when he’s on the ice: steady confidence and professionalism yet most people don’t realize how different he can be in social settings. Johnny knows how to have a good time but he’s also less sure of himself and often has difficulty opening up around new people.

“Yeah, so, I’m gonna go,” she finishes, self-deprecatingly. 

Johnny laughs, not unkindly, and she grins back at him, a little sheepish and a whole lot adorable. He shakes his head to himself over how innocent and young she looks right now, after what they just did. It’s surreal, but not in a bad way. 

“Night,” he says, softly, and watches her walk to the elevator before closing the door. 

Johnny heads back to his apartment and falls asleep that night wondering how soon is too soon to call her again and then reminds himself this isn’t a fucking date and there’s no time frame etiquette. After all, he’s paying for this. It sobers him enough to stop any stupid fantasies he was having that had nothing to do with sex, that’s for sure.  
_________________________

Johnny nearly forgets that he’s meeting up with Seabs, Kaner and Sharpy for dinner the next night to celebrate his birthday, before Kaner and Seabs take off for their respective hometowns. He’s glad the marks on his wrists have faded a bit, and that the places he chooses are usually darkly lit. 

“Surprised Duncs left you already, Biscuit. Did you have a tearful goodbye?” Sharpy asks, toothy grin firmly in place over the rim of his glass. 

“It was beautiful,” Seabs responds, raising his own beer at Sharpy. 

Johnny snorts, and drinks his wine while Kaner rolls his eyes and calls him a snob. 

“You have no culture,” Johnny says, ruffling Kaner’s hair. 

“Quit it!” he says, smoothing it down like that’s going to make it look any less like a gelled disaster. 

“Boys, I’ll turn this car around,” Sharpy says, voice full of mirth. 

“When are you heading back, Johnny?” Seabs asks, and Johnny swallows hard around his wine. 

“Oh, uh, not sure yet. Think I’ll stick around a while more.” 

Seabs and Sharpy nod and go back to looking at the menu while Kaner just stares at him, eyebrow raised. 

“What,” he mutters, voice low. “I stuck around the last time we got knocked out early,” Johnny reminds him. Of course, he was also dating someone then. If anything Kaner looks even more amused, like he’s thinking the exact same thing, and then whistles innocently, raising his menu. Johnny rolls his eyes and changes topics to Sharpy and Seabs’ kids. 

Seabs and Sharpy take off first but Kaner and Johnny decide to linger at the bar afterwards. “Okay, what gives?” Kaner asks, after downing a shot. 

“Huh?” 

Kaner waves his hand expansively. “Please, I know something’s up. You haven’t stopped touching your wrist all night.” 

Johnny’s about to protest when he looks down and sees the way his fingertips are grazing along the inside of his right one. 

“I’d say you fucked it up against the Blues but your face gets dumb when you touch it. And you’re also staying in town.” 

Johnny scoffs. “You some detective now, Peeks?” 

“Bite me,” Kaner says, before grinning triumphantly. “On second thought, you’re the one into that.” 

Johnny feels his cheeks flame and knocks back the rest of his whiskey. “Jesus, shut it,” he mutters. 

Kaner bumps him with his hip. “You do it, then?” 

Johnny hesitates before nodding, once. 

Kaner clinks their empty glasses together like a moron. “Sweet. Was it good?”

Johnny flushes some more, fingers instinctively closing over his wrist again. “Touch and go at first but -- yeah. I, uh, she’s something else.” 

Johnny guesses his voice goes a little soft around the edges because Kaner gives him a disbelieving look. “Johnny, Johnny, Johnny,” he chides. “Are you falling for your dominatrix?” 

“ _No_ ,” he says, hotly. Because he’s not, he’s just -- he never had someone make him feel that way. 

Kaner gives him a challenging look, but drops it just as fast. “Okay, good. Because only you’d be that fucking dumb.” 

“You fell for your fucking masseuse in Buffalo!” 

Kaner flushes and Johnny smirks, feeling victorious. 

“Never should’ve told you that.” 

Johnny laughs, messing up his hair again and orders them another round.  
_____________________

Johnny holds off two more days before calling Kenny and asking to see her tomorrow. 

“Uh, I’m not sure if she’s available.”

“I know it’s short notice,” Johnny says, apologetically. 

“It’s -- Look, just uh. Let me give her a call. I’ll get back to you.” 

Johnny frowns down at his phone, wondering if she’s sick or something. Or if he did something to upset her. He racks his brain but can’t come up with anything. 

Kenny calls him back about an hour later, after he’s played his guitar a little and gotten through one game of NHL ‘14. 

“She’ll meet you at the same place at 8 tomorrow.” 

Johnny breathes out slowly. “Okay, great. Thanks.” 

He showers thoroughly right before she arrives and his hair is still a little damp as he opens the door. 

She’s got on a black dress, not what he was expecting at all, and her legs are clad in sheer black pantyhose. 

Johnny smiles at her, feeling oddly out of breath and she eyes him with a tilt to her head. 

“It’s like you never want to let me in,” Kristen says, a quirk to her lips. 

Johnny tries to keep his smile in place, knows she’s teasing, but he’s already feeling fraught. 

“Course I do,” he says, seriously, stepping aside. She blinks at him. 

“Thanks for seeing me,” Johnny adds quickly, “Hope it wasn’t an inconvenience.” 

“Huh?” Kristen asks, placing her bag on the chair near the bed. 

“Uh, Kenny said -- he wasn’t sure you were available.” 

Kristen visibly shakes herself. “Oh, uh, yeah no, it’s cool. Just had a headache and shit.”

Johnny nods, figuring it was something like that, but she still seems a little off. 

“We don’t have to if--”

Kristen waves her hand. “It’s cool, Johnny. I’m here. What’s it gonna be tonight?” 

Johnny shrugs, wanting to pull her close and kiss her breathless. 

Kristen clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Do you want to fully negotiate a scene?” 

“What’s that mean?”

“God, you’re so new at this,” she sighs, but it’s not condescending. “It means we talk about everything we’re going to do and then we do it.” 

Johnny wrinkles his nose up at the thought. Usually he likes planning but that’s more on the ice than anywhere else. He doesn’t want this to be a hockey play that they whiteboard in practice and then apply it. He doesn’t want… control. 

“No. I want you to tell me what I’m gonna do.” 

The words feel heavy on his tongue; heady. 

“Believe it or not, that’s still negotiation,” Kristen grins, before adding, seriously, “And we’re never going to do anything you don’t want. You understand that, right? You say your safe word if anything I suggest or do is off limits.”

Johnny meets her eyes. “I understand.” 

“Good. Now strip to your underwear and get on the bed.” 

Johnny swallows hard, his skin feeling hot, even though he’s vaguely worried this is going to be like the first time, seeing as they still haven’t touched. Except once he’s on the bed and leaning back against the pillows, Kristen crawls up his body, pressing hot, wet, kisses against his stomach.

Johnny’s dick begins to fill and he closes his eyes, clutching at the bedsheets. Her hands fit over his own, squeezing. 

“Keep them there,” she whispers against his throat. “No restraints tonight. Tonight's about how much you can obey, how much you can handle.” 

Johnny bites back a groan as she nips at his jaw, her hair tickling along his neck.

“What are you gonna do?” Johnny asks, voice rough to his own ears. She hovers over his lips and he wants to close the distance but he doesn’t, just stays where she put him, pressed against the pillows and the mattress. 

“Do you know what edging is?” 

Johnny shakes his head, focused on her hot breath against his mouth. 

“Fancy term for orgasm denial. That’s what I‘m gonna do.” 

Johnny swallows hard, his mouth bone dry and stares at Kristen as she pulls back, feeling winded. 

“You know what to say if that’s not okay,” she reminds. 

The fact that his dick is even harder now proves how much he has no intention of voicing that particular word. 

“It’s okay,” Johnny says.

“Good,” she whispers and places a soft, gentle kiss to the center of his mouth. 

She sits back on his thighs, ignoring his dick and strips off her dress, gracefully. She’s got on a red lace bra and panties and he wants to put his mouth everywhere. 

That’s not on the table right now though, and Johnny has to endure her hot mouth pulling at his nipples, biting down his abdomen, all while holding his hands in place. He could shake her off easily but he doesn’t want to, doesn’t even consider it. 

Kristen spends a good deal of time licking at his bulge through his boxers, soaking the fabric with her tongue and massaging his balls, just a hint too hard. It's the hottest thing, watching her mouth work him over, again and again, seeing his dick twitch as she licks up the underside.

Johnny’s fingers have a death grip on the sheets and his chest is heaving. He wants her tongue so bad, wants his dick free of its confines, but she makes no show of considering either action. Her hands leave his balls and smooth down his thighs, nails cutting into the tight muscle before raking back up. 

Johnny’s leaking at the tip by the time she’s breathing against his boxers, before licking a line along his torso right above his waist band. 

He groans, low in his throat, and watches her pull at the elastic with her teeth.

“Please,” he says hoarsely.

“Please what?”

“Touch me. Please touch me.” 

“I’ve been touching you,” Kristen points out.

Johnny huffs out a breath, closing his eyes.

“We’re only getting started,” Kristen says, almost sadistically and Johnny wants to cry in frustration. 

She rids him of his boxers though and finally takes his dick in her hand, too rough to be comfortable yet it feels like everything he’s ever wanted. 

Kristen spreads pre-come down his cock but it’s not even close to being slick enough, just sticky.

She sits astride his thighs, jacking him long and slow, pressing her thumb against the slit as they both watch more fluid pearl there until she spreads that down too. 

Kristen finally speeds up her hand, rough and quick, causing Johnny’s back to arch and his breathing to grow rapid. 

“Oh, god,” Johnny moans, hands tightening, feeling it build in his balls, wanting the relief, wanting--

Then her hand is gone and she’s pressing her fingers against his sac and he feels dizzy, coming down from the high, staring at her. 

She stares back and tightens her grip before dropping her mouth to where her fingers just were. 

Johnny lets out a strangled cry and curls his hands into even tighter fists. 

Her mouth is hot, wet and sloppy against him, not even attempting finesse, just making it dirty and perfect. 

Johnny keep his hips still and his breathing speeds up again, especially when she pushes his legs apart, bending between them to drag her tongue behind his balls and over the stretch of skin there, just barely teasing his hole. 

Johnny has an immediate thought of _I’m glad I showered an hour ago_ and then pushes it away, focusing on the sensations. Kristen licks around the ring of muscle and Johnny lets out a small sound of surprise. No one’s ever done that to him before. He didn't even realize it's something he’d want, much less enjoy, but it's working for him right now and when she licks a line up his balls to linger at the base of his dick, it’s hotter than hell and he finds himself sweating and shaking, so close to coming again. 

Kristen’s obviously a mind reader because she stops abruptly again, sitting back. 

“Do you need water?”

Johnny shakes his head. 

“Okay.” She drags her hands up and down his chest for long moments, until his breathing has evened out again. His dick is so hard it hurts and his balls are drawn tightly against his body. 

“Round three,” Kristen says, quietly, and then closes her lips around his dick. 

Johnny groans loudly, blinking sweat out of his eyes and biting down on his lip as she sucks him hard and fast, her mouth stretched perfectly around him. Kristen sets a brutal pace that Johnny matches with his own breathing, chest once again rising and falling rapidly as she sucks him to the root. Kristen’s emitting soft sounds that vibrate around him, making him unable to see straight. 

Johnny’s feeling it once again, pressure rising relentlessly. His hips jerk on their own accord but he never moves his hands and he doesn't fuck her mouth. She keeps going and he thinks _maybe, god, maybe_ , but then she’s pulling off his dick with a pop and Johnny lets out a sobbing, involuntary moan. 

His body feels wrenched with need and he wants to move his hands so badly, but he also wants to give her what she's asking of him. 

"You're doing great, Johnny," she whispers, and he shakes his head immediately because he's not, he's losing it, he's going to let her down.

"Stop it," she says and slaps his cheek. He jerks, looking at her with wide eyes. 

His dick leaps pathetically and he feels shame and arousal all at once.

Kristen cards her fingers through his hair, pulling a little, forcing him to meet her eyes. "I said: you're doing great. What do you say back?"

"Thank you, Ma'am," he chokes out, believing her words right down to his core.

"Good. But we're gonna take a break from you," she says, sitting low on his belly so his dick is trapped behind her, snug up against her ass. The lace presses against him and Johnny sighs, his cock twitching painfully. He wants inside her, so badly.

Kristen drags her own hands over her tits and down her belly before settling over her cunt. She teases herself over her panties and Johnny watches, transfixed, wanting to see her completely naked. His palms are sweating now, his grip on the sheets slippery.

"You're going to watch as I get myself off. Because I deserve it. I've been working hard."

Johnny nods, mindlessly. 

She reaches back to unhook her bra and Johnny’s gaze falls to her breasts and the dark pink of her nipples. They’re pointed, skin stretched tight, which makes him wonder if she's just naturally sensitive or already aroused. She feels herself up and Johnny bites his lip, tugging it between his teeth as their eyes lock. Then she eases down her underwear, climbing out of it a little clumsily but Johnny can’t even concentrate on that when she’s straddling him again, her bare ass pressed up against his dick. 

His breath feels punched out of him and he can't take his eyes off her as she presses the pads of her fingers against her clit, rubbing in small circles and arching her back like she's already on edge. Johnny wants so bad to taste her again, can't help but recall her scent or the way she came against his tongue, body shaking. He wants to know if she's wet, if she's thinking about him or another guy or girl or nothing at all. 

"You're," he chokes out and then snaps his jaw shut. 

"I'm what?" Kristen asks, voice a little thready as she slides one finger inside herself.

"You're fucking gorgeous," Johnny answers earnestly, trying not to feel embarrassed about it. Kristen gets this look on her face though, like it was the most perfect thing he could've said, and he exhales slowly.

"Yeah?" She replies, a little smug. “This turning you on?"

"So much," he says and then groans when she presses back against his dick, feeling it slide against the cheeks of her ass. 

"Then stop talking and watch me."

It's a command and Johnny shivers, watching intently as she slips another finger inside her pussy, finding a rhythm. He catalogs every one of her movements and barely blinks much less breathes. His fingers are starting to cramp up but he won't dare move them. There's a steady stream of pre-come flowing from his dick as she works herself faster, pressing against him with every shift of her thighs. Johnny watches her work her clit and then shifts his gaze to her face where she’s tugging her lip between her teeth. He gapes at the sight of her as she climbs closer and closer to the same edge she won’t push him over. 

“Tell me what you want,” she says, voice wrecked, her eyes squeezed shut, and it’s an automatic reaction when he replies with, “I want you to come.” 

Kristen’s eyes fly open and she stares at him before arching her back and letting out a loud, high pitched cry. He watches her shake and shudder, her fingers jerking against her pussy until she slumps forward, bracing herself on his chest with her left hand.

“Shit," she gasps out, and it's unbearably hot. It isn't until Johnny’s avidly watching her tits rise and fall that he realizes he said he wanted her to come, rather than himself. It feels...oddly important, that no matter how desperate he is right now, he still wanted her pleasure before his own. He’s feeling pretty satisfied over it, but not enough to completely forget his own wants and needs. 

Kristen presses a soft kiss to his belly, breath fanning against him and then moving lower, shifting so she's between his legs again and mouthing at the underside of his dick before jacking him firmly.

"You want to come?" She asks, staring up at him from beneath her lashes.

"Yes, Ma’am."

"Do you think you deserve to? Have you been good, Johnny?"

He can barely feel his fingers anymore from how hard he's clenching the sheets. "I have. I've been good," he mutters, feeling manic, unhinged, angling his hips upward, greedy for her mouth.

"You have," she agrees softly, lips skimming over the head. “I'm going to reward you for it."

It's possible he screams when she sucks him all the way to the base with no pretense, starting a relentless pace as her fingers press behind his balls again. Johnny's sucking in breaths that never seem to satisfy him and watches her head move, her mouth, the curve of her body. 

He's so close now and if she puts on the breaks again he may die, might be gasping out, “Don't stop,” just to make sure. She doesn't though, and Johnny can't help the twist of his hips as his orgasm hits, intense and overwhelming, sharp cries falling from his lips. He comes and comes and she sucks him until there isn't a drop left. When Kristen pulls off, her lips are red, full, and shiny.

She casts her fingers up and down his flank. "You can move now," she says and Johnny gingerly unclasps his fingers, like a lock has been released. His hands are shaking and he feels completely wrecked, still panting harshly. 

Kristen watches for a moment before dropping down beside him, stretched out along his side and pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

"How are you feeling?" She asks, fingertips toying at his nipples. 

"Kind of... weird. Exhilarated. Floaty."

He feels her nod. "Normal."

Johnny sucks in an unsteady breath and looks at her. Her hair still seems perfectly in place and it weirdly reminds him how professional she is. Which means he probably shouldn't ask this next question, but he’s feeling strangely needy right now.

"Can you just… lay here with me? For a bit?"

Johnny risks a glance to find Kristen biting her lip. "Sure, Johnny," she says after about five torturous seconds. She curls herself against his side and he lifts his hand to smooth it down her arm, exhaling slowly. 

They're both silent and it should probably feel awkward but it isn't.

"This is working for you, then?" Kristen asks, when he's nearly asleep. 

"Hmm? Yeah. It's… really what I need right now."

"Because you lost?"

Johnny blinks, looking down at her. "You a fan or something?" he teases, loving the way she rolls her eyes in response.

"I have ears and eyes, you know. Can't really miss that kind of news in this town."

"And here I was hoping you carried my bobblehead in that bag of yours."

Kristen snorts out a laugh, loud and unexpected, resting her chin on his chest and grinning up at him. "Even I'm not _that_ kinky, buddy."

Johnny laughs as well, brightly, easy as anything, unable to help the happiness bubbling in his chest or how weirdly perfect it feels to be smiling down at her right now. Something shifts in the air, the laugher replaced by heavy heat. Johnny wants to lean over and bite at her lips, taste himself on her tongue. Kristen looks away first, breaking the moment, tapping her fingers against his chest.

Johnny clears his throat. “Uh, to answer your question: it's not about that. I've been thinking about this for a while. I'm not some glutton for punishment when we fail."

"Just a glutton for punishment in bed," she says, slyly.

"Apparently," Johnny grins. It feels stupidly good to admit it. Stupidly good to just be himself, give himself what he wants.

"Sorry bout the loss, though. Sucks. You guys started out the year well."

Johnny smiles through his surprise. "So you are a fan."

Kristen raises her finger to flip him off before burrowing in closer. "Casual fan. Grew up in L.A., though, so I'm betraying my people."

Johnny scoffs. "Whatever. I promise I won't tell Richie when I see him later this summer."

Kristen pokes his ribs. "You're an idiot."

Johnny hums contentedly at the near fondness in her voice.

He closes his eyes, stroking his fingers down her back, absently.

"Tell me about growing up there."

"Not much to tell. Not as glamorous as everyone thinks. Kind of a shithole, actually, but it's home. Tried my hand at acting when I was a kid but didn't want that whole life."

He hums in response. "Why this?" he yawns.

She’s silent and he’s losing track of the moments as they drift by, feeling barely alert. 

"You're totally falling asleep, asshole," Kristen says, sounding almost fond. 

"M’not," he mumbles, but knows it’s a lie. 

Johnny's thinking maybe he's already gone and dreaming when there's no response until a soft voice says, "Because it's like acting. It's wearing masks."

There's something important in her words but he can't catch them, is flittering in and out of space.

"Johnny," he hears, his body being shaken. "Johnny, wake up."

"Mmm, no," he says and pulls the voice closer to him, soft body against his own. He kisses blindly at the skin. "Sleep."

"Jesus Christ. I gotta go, man."

"Stay," Johnny says, holding tight. "Just stay."

There’s a heavy sigh. "Okay."

Johnny hums happily in response. 

When he blinks into consciousness, there's light streaming through the blinds. He immediately reaches out but he's alone in the bed. Johnny sits up, realizing a) he's not home b) this is the hotel but there's no sign of Kristen. He must have been dreaming her saying she'd stay and the disappointment hits him hard. He turns to look at the time and sees it’s already 10am and there's a piece of paper resting on top of the alarm clock.

_Had to get an early start. Tried to wake you but you sleep like the dead._

_Kristen_

And then there's something that looks like a number, which is crossed out, and underneath it the words: _if you ever wanna talk_ and the number again, this time legible.

Johnny feels shell-shocked. He never expected her to offer it up, isn’t even sure if that's allowed. 

He gets up to piss, comes back, and stares at the paper before picking up his phone.

**It’s Johnny. Sorry for falling asleep on you**

He bites his lip, waiting for a reply and nearly jumps when his phone buzzes.

**It's okay; at least you didn't drool on me**

Johnny laughs, loudly. **sounds kinky, maybe I should**

**Not on your life, buddy**

Johnny smiles stupidly and gets up to face his day.  
_______________________________

They end up falling into a pattern of random texts over the next few days, about mostly mundane shit, except Kristen brings a sharp, witty edge to everything they're talking about so even the most banal topics end up making him laugh. They haven't exactly flirted much though, and so Johnny feels a little awkward bringing up meeting again. 

He goes out to a club with some friends and there's a girl who is definitely interested. Johnny talks to her for a bit, finds out she's in law school and is taking a much needed break from studying for finals tonight. She's nice and he enjoys hearing about the different types of cases she's looking at, but when she runs her hand up and down his arm all Johnny can imagine is Kristen's fingers going even lower to curve around his wrist.

He makes an apologetic excuse, sees her obvious disappointment, and goes back to join his friends. "Pathetic," he whispers to himself. "You're pathetic."

His friends tell him as much when he reaches them and Johnny's in too foul a mood to stay much longer after that. 

The next night he buckles down and texts Kristen if he can see her, after hearing about how she could eat sushi every day of her life but she hates, _hates_ tuna.

 **dude you need to go through Kenny for that** is her reply and obviously Johnny knew that, he just… figured maybe things could be a little less formal, considering they now text on the regular. He’d obviously still pay, of course. Contacting her directly was a dumb thing to do though. Anyone who knows him would call him a masochist, yet only Kaner would know how true that statement is. 

Johnny replies back with **No, I know. Sorry. I guess I just. wanted to check with you first.**

 **that’s not necessary** is her reply but it doesn’t mollify him at all. He _wants_ it to be necessary, wants to get together when it’s convenient for her and not just himself. He’s starting to feel incredibly selfish and it’s not something he’s particularly comfortable with. He’s aware he’s projecting his own hangups, so he just contacts Kenny and makes the appointment. 

When Kristen arrives that night, Johnny asks her if she wants to watch a movie. 

“Uh, you mean porn?” she replies, her forehead creased. She’s got on a short black and white skirt and her shoes are leather, diamond cut in the back and somehow hotter than fuck. Johnny has literally never found a shoe ‘hot’ in his life before.

“Um, no, just a movie.” 

Kristen frowns harder at him. “Why would I… what, like, you want to do roleplay or something? Like this is a first date?” 

Johnny holds in a sigh and shakes his head. “Just forget I said anything and let’s just--” he waves towards the bed, hoping to put all this awkwardness behind him.

“No, look, I’m supposed to give you anything you want. You just surprised me, is all.” 

Johnny shrugs, looking down at the carpet. He’d really like to get back to their relaxed texting and not all this weird tension in the space between them or the way she’s looking at him right now -- with something akin to pity. 

They sit on the couch and he chooses the first thing he sees on the Pay-Per-View channels which happens to be the latest Hunger Games film. Kristen arches an eyebrow in his direction but otherwise says nothing else. They’re sitting pretty close and he can feel the heat of her body. About 30 minutes in, Kristen begins talking about the differences in the books and getting a little heated at times, her mouth going a mile a minute. Johnny finds himself hanging on her every word and watching her face and hands as she talks. 

“Do you read a lot?” 

Kristen nods. “Yeah. Guess you could say it’s a passion. You?” 

“I try to as much as I can. Sometimes it’s easier to fall back on video games during traveling.” 

“Shame; you need all the brain cells you have.” 

“Hey!” Johnny exclaims, and Kristen grins up at him brilliantly before quizzing him on the last book he read. Johnny tells her about it and Kristen eyes him skeptically, saying how juicing his calories is totally dumb and that she’d rather eat actual fruits and vegetables any day of the week. They end up talking (and arguing) and completely ignoring the film.

Johnny’s staring at her face, lost in the movement of her lips when she trails off on her list of great female author recommendations and smirks at him. 

“You ready now?”

Johnny nods and keeps still, waits for her to touch him. She does, running a hand down his chest. 

Kristen leans in and drags her tongue up his throat before settling over his mouth and biting on his lower lip. Johnny moans and kisses back, slotting their mouths together firmly as their tongues dance. They kiss for long moments, Kristen holding Johnny's hands down at his sides, sliding onto his lap and controlling the pace. She's making small, hitching sounds against him and they're the best thing he's heard. 

“What do you want?” Kristen asks, more like gasps, and god, that's doing it for him. 

“Tie me up,” Johnny whispers against her mouth. “Hurt me.”

Kristen tugs on his hair, causing his neck to fall back against the couch, and licks between his lips. “Bed, now."

Kristen gets up and Johnny takes in those damn shoes again, the way her legs are bare and so smooth looking, the way her skirt is twisted.

"Fuck," he breathes, and adjusts his dick in his pants, getting up unsteadily and stripping off his shirt before walking to the bed.

"Naked," Kristen orders and Johnny shivers. He undoes his pants, watching as she digs around in her bag. Johnny swallows hard when she takes out a paddle and nearly trips getting out of his pants.

"Aren’t hockey players supposed to have good balance?" Kristen wonders aloud and Johnny scoffs.

"Fuck you, I have great balance.”

"Uh huh," Kristen smirks, sliding down her skirt and stripping off her shirt, standing in a one piece black and white lace teddy. 

Johnny's amusement fades quickly, replaced by searing heat. He's in just his boxers now as she walks up to him, easing them off his hips and leaning in to bite at his torso. 

"Come on," she says softly, pushing him towards the bed and Johnny goes, lying out naked and feeling vulnerable and exposed. 

She's bending down to take off her shoes when Johnny makes a sharp sound. "No, uh."

Kristen looks up, eyebrow raised. 

"Uh, leave them on? Please."

Kristen’s eyebrow raises even further at that. “I thought you said you don’t have a shoe fetish.” 

“I don’t.” 

She grins at him, knowingly. "Mmmhmm. So just a leather fetish, huh?"

Johnny wants to protest or worse say it's a leather-plus-her thing but says neither. 

Kristen looks at him like she’s considering something before saying, “I was _gonna_ tie you up with cloth this time but I think I've got some leather cuffs. Hold on.”

She digs through her bag while he bites his lip, taking in the slope of her shoulders, the angle of her hips, her absolutely perfect ass. 

“Got ‘em!” she says, triumphantly and crawls over him on the bed, planting her ass on his chest while leaning over to secure the wide cuff around his wrists and the openings in the headboard. There's less give with them as opposed to the cuffs and he feels a familiar swelling panic. 

"Shhhh," Kristen says, reading him far too well again. "You're okay."

Johnny nods, eyes unfocused, reveling in her fingers in his hair.

“Do you need a moment?”

“No,” he says, with confidence, taking another steadying breath and letting the emotions wash over him, apprehension replaced by a sense of security. "No, I'm ready."

His dick isn’t totally with the program yet but it gets on board when Kristen shifts down his chest, placing kisses along the way. He can feel her thighs all up against his sides, the way her mouth trails even lower, hotter, until he's rock hard and pushing up against her lips while she just teases him, licking wetly around the shaft, refusing to close her mouth over him. It goes on like that for a while and Johnny's panting, breathless, and leaking before she finally sucks him down. He cries out and doesn't move, not with the way her nails are cutting into his skin. Then he feels a jolt of pain along his torso, following a loud crack that has him jerking his eyes open.

"What--" he starts and then she moves, shifting back on her thighs while sitting low astride his, and holding the paddle. 

“Oh my god”, Johnny gasps.

"Again?" 

“Fuck, yes.”

Kristen seems perfectly put together again, aside from some flushness in her face. She starts smacking his thighs with it hard, alternating from one to the other while her hand jerks his dick. She hits him again and again, over this torso, his hips, his belly, anywhere she can reach and he grows harder in her hand each time, even though he’s finding it difficult to breathe through the pain sometimes.

“I want,” Johnny gasps, nonsensically, out of his mind with need. “I--” 

“What?" she asks, sounding a little breathless herself, and he opens his eyes to see her staring, eyes intense, heavy.

“Want to be inside you,” he finishes, voice thick with desire. “If that’s -- if you want to.” 

Kristen pauses for a moment before nodding once and standing to strip off the rest her clothes. Johnny nearly comes right then and there and then she's on him again, rolling down a condom and holding a short riding crop now.

She slaps at his flank with it and Johnny's whole body jerks. He's a gasping, wide-eyed mess when she finally sinks down on him.

"Oh fuck," he moans, watching her face. She's biting her lip, eyes closed, breathing shallowly.

"Fuck, Kristen."

She opens her eyes slowly and looks down at him, somewhat surprised. Her mouth twists and he sees pleasure cross her face. "You feel good, Johnny."

His cock twitches hard inside her and she laughs while he blushes.

"So do you," he chokes out.

"So well. You're doing so well.” Kristen starts moving and Johnny feels as though he may die at the low, tortuous pace she's set. She starts hitting his stomach and he can see the red welts being to raise all over his body, is thankful the season is over and he doesn't have to explain it to anyone. Her pussy is hot and perfect around him as she works him over, knowing just how to move, just how to get the both of them gasping and shaking. 

She begins riding him fast and hard, hitting him in time with the hard jerk of her hips forward and back, her head tilted backward, her mouth open. Kristen comes as she's slapping the side of his hip. It's a fierce, violent event complete with loud cries and shuddering. Her heels are digging into his legs, her pussy clenching tight around him and fuck if he's ever seen, felt or heard anything better in his entire life.

Then she drops the toy, still gasping, and leans over him, sealing their mouths and closing her fingers over his wrists. 

"Fuck," she says, sounding breathless and unsteady, as they kiss so fucking dirty and wet. Johnny fucks up into her hard, his dick aching and his body thrumming from both pain and adrenaline. 

"Come. Now," she orders, before fucking her tongue into his mouth and squeezing his twists so tight. He does, on a gasping breath into her mouth, body jerking as loud moans spill from his lips.

"Kristen, fuck, _Kristen_ ," Johnny pants. She stills against him, before clenching around his dick again.

"Nnnnhhh, shit," Kristen moans, low and ragged. 

Johnny blinks up at her, their faces still so close, their breaths mingling. 

"Fuck, did you just--"

"Yeah," she whispers and he lets out a guttural moan, claiming her mouth again. The kiss turns lazy and sated, their lips barely moving against one another. Kristen undoes the restraints and Johnny flexes his wrists before bringing his hands to her back and sliding them over her skin.

Kristen lets out a pleased sound and snuggles in closer. "Mmmm, gimme a minute okay?"

"You're good," Johnny laughs and pulls her even closer, his heart thumping in his chest. After a few moments she gets up, not bothering with clothes. She disposes of the condom before running a hot, damp washcloth over the red welts on his skin, silently regarding him, before tossing it aside and crawling back in next to him. 

"You were so good," she says, kissing his chest. He read that praise is, like, a thing with this stuff but he's still completely unprepared for the way it makes his chest swell each time. 

"Thank you," Johnny says sincerely before wrapping his arms around her, loving how she feels. He could get lost in her.

The next thing Johnny knows he's blinking against filtered sunlight and tugging the body next to him firmer against his own. He mouths at Kristen's shoulder, hearing her moan, before pressing kisses all along her skin and up the side of her neck.

"Mmm," she sighs and Johnny pulls her closer, his arms low around her waist, thrusting against her back. 

"What time is it?" Johnny asks, vaguely.

"Huh?" she responds, sounding more aware before stilling in his arms.

"Oh, what the fuck?" she exclaims, before leaping out of bed.

Johnny peers at the clock. It's 10:30.

"Fuck, what the fuck am I doing here? This is so unprofessional, man, not to mention I'm fucking late."

"It's okay," Johnny says, calmly, "I'll drive you wherever."

She slides her skirt on. "That's not the point, Johnny, Jesus Christ."

"Look, I gotta go," she says, finishing pulling on the rest of her clothes. 

"Do you want a shower? Or some breakfast?"

"No, I just need to get out of here."

Johnny winces, glad she wasn't looking to see it. "Okay, uh. If this is going to be a problem with Kenny or whatever I can--"

"Huh?" Kristen blinks up at him from where she's packing her bag. "No, dude, just. Whatever." She says, shaking her head and then walks towards the door, before turning to look at him. 

"I'll see ya," Kristen says, sounding a little regretful, but damn if he can figure out in what regard.

He ends up texting her a few hours later.

**I'm sorry. Didn’t mean for you to miss your appointment**

**It's fine, it's my own fault.** she replies back and Johnny figures he’ll wait until she texts again before saying anything else; their dynamic seems off now, and he'd rather not make it more awkward. 

He talks to his mom, who wants to know if he's coming up for his cousin’s birthday and then he gets a text from Richie, wondering when they’re gonna go fishing since the Kings have now been knocked out as well. Those requests, coupled with the fact that last night was one of the best nights of his life, and the way he felt holding Kristen in his arms this morning, has him buying a ticket to Winnipeg before he can even process what he's doing. 

He got the earliest flight he could, which is tomorrow. He wants to text Kristen just to let her know he won’t be around, but maybe she'd find it weird so he doesn't. She texts him later that night.

**How's your body feeling?**

Johnny smiles a little to himself. **A little sore, but good**

**Okay. Use a wet cloth on any deep welts**

Johnny bites his lip and decides to just tell her. **Thanks. Btw I'm going out of town for a while**

**Oh, cool. Have fun**

Johnny groans. Of course he can't decipher anything at all from that.

**Thanks. I'll catch a fish for you**

**As long as it's not tuna**

Johnny grins and figures they're probably okay.  
_____________________

Johnny’s been back home for a few days and has seen some friends and family, but mostly he can’t get his mind off Kristen. It’s uncomfortable, being so focused on someone, but he can’t help wondering what she does all day, who she hangs out with, what her interests are. He can’t fool himself anymore that he hasn’t totally fallen for her. He knows if he were smart he’d stop seeing her since it’s not like anything can come from it. He’s her client, pure and simple. 

Johnny spends the next few weeks relaxing; fishing, jetskiing, going out to Earl’s with friends. He does send her a pic of a fish he caught and she laughs. Their texts are pretty standard and not overly frequent; nice, but also confusing just because they occur in the first place. 

On a Friday night at Earl’s he’s talking to a woman who’s visiting for the summer from Italy. She has no idea who he is (which is normally not a luxury he has back home) and her accent is totally doing it for him. He decides maybe he really does need to just -- get Kristen off his mind and before he knows it they’re kissing against the wall near the bathrooms and he’s saying goodbye to his friends before they head to her place. 

It’s not difficult to let go; he’s a little loose from the alcohol already in the system and the anonymity he knows he has, so it’s easy to ask her to hold his wrists down and for her to just grin at him and do it. She rides him and Johnny wants to be more restrained, wants her to tell him he can’t talk, can’t move, but instead just channels the instincts he’s been gaining from being with Kristen. And then he just -- thinks of Kristen in general, of how she rode him like this, of how fucking hot and perfect she was around him and then he’s moaning, head thrown back, eyes screwed shut, and about ready to pop. Johnny feels shitty about it, but Giovanna is barely in the room now. It’s just his memories of Kristen, of her scent, of her voice, and he’s coming. Giovanna rides him until she comes herself and then slumps against him, kissing his chest and telling him how good it was. And it was; it was a breakthrough for him that he actually -- did this, even to a mild degree, with someone he just met, but he also thought about Kristen almost the whole time and that’s just… a problem. 

Johnny feels empty afterwards. Giovanna doesn’t ask him to stay and he doesn’t offer to. He wishes her luck and kisses her goodbye, taking a cab back for his car. 

The next morning he gets a text from Kristen about how she sees someone wearing his jersey at least once nearly every day of her life and could he maybe stop being so well-liked? 

Johnny laughs and texts back that he’ll give it his best shot. 

**It’s summer, why the hell are people even wearing hockey shit?** she replies and Johnny calls her a hater. 

**Whatever, man, I’m just tellin’ it like it is. Sorry you can’t handle what I’m serving up**

Johnny cackles and sends her back a ‘whatever’ to which she calls ‘weak sauce.’ The grin stays on his face through breakfast.  
_______________________

Johnny gets in some ice time that afternoon and then does some weight training afterwards before heading over to his parents’ house for a barbeque. He keeps up some random texts with Kristen throughout dinner and his mom asks him teasingly if he’s got a new girlfriend or if his manners have just deteriorated horribly since his last visit. 

“Uh, neither. Sorry,” Johnny blushes, pocketing his phone while Davey snickers. 

“You never text that often, man. You suddenly become cool?” 

“Shut up, idiot,” Johnny replies, maturely. 

His mom eyes him curiously. “You sure there isn’t someone? You seem… more relaxed than you usually are after a loss, dear.” 

Johnny shrugs, wishing his face didn’t feel so hot. “Had time to decompress in Chicago.” 

His mom still looks like she doesn’t believe him, because she can always read him too damn well, but thankfully his dad cuts in about how good the steak is and Johnny knows a save when he hears one. 

He meets his dad’s eye, raising his wine glass in thanks, and receives a wink in return. 

When Johnny gets home he checks his phone again, finding a few more texts about nothing really in particular. The last one has her saying she’s bored as all hell and no one is around to do anything tonight. 

**What would you be doing?** he lets himself ask, biting his lip. 

**Anything, man. Club, bar, karaoke, pool, bowling. I just like to have fun**

Johnny smiles, chest unlocking over how easy it was to learn a little bit more about her, glad that she’s treating him like a friend. 

**So do I** he replies, and then feels totally lame. 

**you’d probably be a dumb drunk** Kristen says, which seems kind of random until she says **and yes, I’ve been drinking. May need to stop typing soon, it’s annoying me**. 

**Okay** Johnny responds, feeling a wave of fondness. 

**or I could call** comes the next reply and he swallows, hard. 

**You could do that**

She does, and his heart races as he answers. 

“Hey,” Johnny says softly. 

“Hey,” Kristen replies. “What’s up?” 

“Not much. Was at dinner with my family earlier.” 

“That’s cool. Having fun?” 

“Yeah, it’s always good to go back home.” 

Kristen hums. “That’s Canada, right?” 

“Yeah,” Johnny replies, smirking a little. Something tells him she knows exactly where in Canada too, and he’s fine with that. 

“I haven’t been home for a bit, but I hope to go for the holidays.” 

“Nice,” Johnny says, wanting to ask more about her family. 

“They were like, pissed at me for a while because I left after high school to go to England with my boyfriend and then we split up and I just… things kind of sucked, going back, so I took off after a while again, ended up in Chicago. Met some girls who introduced me to Kenny and. Yeah.” 

She keeps surprising him with the stuff she divulges, how easy it all seems. He’s not sure if it’s the alcohol or the fact that they aren’t face to face or if she would’ve just told him anyway. Johnny definitely has a harder time talking about himself, even though he shouldn’t since it’s part of his job. He thinks maybe that’s why, though. Sometimes it gets to be a bit much.

“Wow, sorry, dude. I’m rambling.” 

Johnny shakes his head even though she can’t see him. “No, it’s fine. I like hearing about you.” He does a mental facepalm at his admission, and tenses up when she’s silent. 

“Yeah?” she asks quietly after a moment, sounding almost earnest. 

“Yeah,” Johnny breathes, feeling his heart race a little. “Uh, how long were you together?” 

“With Rob? Like -- four years? I think.” 

“Wow.” 

Kristen barks out a laugh. “You make that sound like a long time.” 

“It is, to me.” 

“Huh. What was your longest relationship?” 

“Like a year and a half. Broke up a few months ago.” 

“Hmm. So did that, like, factor into this whole -- thing?” 

“A little,” Johnny admits. “I -- just couldn’t ease up, even though I should’ve been able to around her. It just wasn’t working. Something had to change.” 

Kristen’s silent for a moment. “What are you doing?”

Johnny freezes, crossing his legs at the ankle, and looks up to where a Family Guy rerun is playing on TV. “Just laying in bed.” 

“Same. Whatcha wearing?” 

Johnny swallows hard. Is this -- is she --? 

“Um, just boxers. Uh, how about you?” he asks, feeling awkward and ridiculous and totally not sure this is going where he thinks it may be going. 

“My Bowie t-shirt and some hip huggers. Today was a weird 80’s day. I was contemplating the beauty of Modern Love. And pairing it with Madonna’s Cherish, so there’s that.” 

Johnny laughs, sinking deeper against into the mattress. 

“I haven’t really listened to much Bowie,” he admits. 

Kristen makes an injured noise. “That is so fucking sad. No, seriously, text me your email later and I’ll send you some tracks because, no.” 

Johnny laughs again. “Okay.” 

“You’re not taking this seriously, man. 70’s Bowie, especially, just -- you don’t know what you’re missing. The first time I listened to Ziggy Stardust was like, better than sex.” 

Johnny chokes on absolutely nothing and then it’s Kristen’s turn to laugh, adorable giggles that he’s not sure he’s ever heard before. 

“Have you seriously never equated music to a sexual experience?” 

Johnny shrugs, blushing. “Maybe the first time I heard Tom Sawyer.” 

Kristen laughs it up for a straight ten seconds. “Oh man, you’d have a lot in common with my Dad.” 

Johnny scowls to himself. “Rush is great.” 

“He took me to see them when I was like -- 16? It was… cool, I guess? Ugh, it’s been forever since I’ve gone to a concert,” Kristen laments. 

“Me too.”

“It’s my own fault. I’m sort of picky with who I wanna see lately.” 

“Yeah,” Johnny agrees, a little distracted. He really thought that this whole thing was going another way, but he supposes it was wishful thinking. 

“It’s hot as fuck here, man,” Kristen says suddenly. He hears shuffling on the other end of the line. 

“Certainly don’t miss _that_ about Chicago,” Johnny says, dryly. 

“Fuck off,” Kristen replies, easily. “Better now that I ditched my shirt.” 

Johnny’s dick leaps to attention and he bites back a groan. “Oh, uh. Cool.” 

Kristen giggles again. “Dude, you can be so fucking awkward, you know that?” 

Johnny frowns, rubbing at his forehead. “Yeah...” 

“Oh, quit sounding self-conscious, asshole. Didn’t say it was a bad thing.” 

“Okay,” he replies, helplessly. 

“I like it,” Kristen admits, quietly. “It’s sort of… refreshing. If that makes any sense at all.” 

“Not really,” Johnny laughs, his pulse hammering. 

“Well, nevertheless. Still, I guess you’re the type of guy that’d be too awkward to…” 

Johnny licks his lips at the tone in her voice, low and husky. “To what?” 

“...You ever had phone sex?” 

Johnny’s brain nearly shorts out, even though he’d been hoping they were headed this way, even though it makes no sense whatsoever since they don’t -- they aren’t-- 

“Uh, yeah, you know. A few times.” 

“Huh. Wow.” 

Johnny shrugs. “Road trips and shit. Once we got single rooms it was… a thing sometimes.” 

“Do you want to?” she asks, quietly. 

His dick is rock hard now and he palms it lazily. “Yes,” Johnny chokes out. 

“Don’t touch yourself.” 

“Wha--” 

“Don’t. Get on your stomach and rub against the sheets while I tell you what I’m gonna do to you. If that’s not okay, say so now.” 

Johnny says nothing, just shifts onto his stomach, dick pressing against his belly. He’s leaking already, wanting her so fucking bad. He’s been missing the way this makes him feel; the commands in her voice, how in place he feels when she tells him what to do, how grounded. 

“You with me, Johnny?” Kristen asks, voice softer now. 

“Yes. Please.” 

“I’m massaging your back, gently at first, making you feel good. Then I dig my nails into your muscles and you hiss and shake.” 

Johnny shivers. “Yeah.” He thrusts against the sheets, loving the friction. 

“Maybe I eat you out. You were into it when I did it that one time, weren’t you.”

It’s not really a question and Johnny blushes, moaning a little. “Y-yes.” 

“Mmm. I’d have you desperate for it. Helpless against my tongue. I-- as I fuck into you. You’d look so good, all spread out. Johnny.” 

Her voice is thready; shaky. Johnny can barely form any thought, his brain shorting out over how hot she sounds, how into it she seems. 

“Kristen,” he chokes out. 

“Fuck,” she whispers. “God, I’m so close already.” 

His neck snaps up from the pillow and his grip tightens on his phone. “Shit, you’re…”

“Uh-huh. So fucking wet. I’d--- fuck, I’d push you down if you were here, fuck myself on your dick.”

Johnny lets out a sharp cry, his hips jerking. He wants to touch himself so bad, but he also doesn’t even think he has to -- feeling right on the edge, just needing to be tipped over. 

“I’m holding down your wrists, squeezing hard, kicking your thighs further apart and just brushing my body all up against you. Wanting you -- wanting to make you come, just like this.” 

Johnny moans, shattered and broken, as his orgasm feels ripped out of him, pulsing hot against his boxers and the sheets, his dick jerking beneath his body. He dimly hears Kristen panting, hears his name as her own cries ring out. It’s hotter than he could’ve imagined -- both the way she sounds, somewhat less guarded than normal, and the fact that he just came without touching himself -- something he hasn’t done since he was fourteen. 

“Shit,” she breathes, voice shaky. Johnny blinks, not moving from his position. 

“Yeah,” he replies, shivering and feeling a little lost. 

“You -- Johnny, you can move if you haven’t. Clean yourself up.” 

He nods even though she can’t see him. 

“You were so good.” 

He shakes his head in self-depreciation. “How do you know? I could’ve -- you don’t know,” he says, standing on unsteady legs and crossing to the bathroom. 

“I know,” Kristen replies, voice warm. It makes something swell inside him. 

He stares at himself in the mirror, feeling completely fucked up, even though he’s totally blissed out as well. Because it’s all crashing back that he’s her client and they just did this and he has no idea what he’s supposed to think. Does he ask her if he should call Kenny? He probably should, he just -- doesn’t want to, is the thing. 

“Hey. Are you okay?” Her voice is firmer now.

“Yeah. That was. It was uh, unexpected.” 

“Oh. Right.” 

They’re both silent for a moment. Johnny strips out of his boxers, making a face at the mess on his stomach. 

“It’s uh, it’s not a big deal. You’ve been shelling out a lot of dough,” Kristen says finally.  
Johnny’s insides are doing complex things.

“Okay, uh. If you’re sure?” 

“Sure,” she says, sounding casual but also distant. 

“Okay. Um. I should take a shower, I feel kind of gross.” 

“Yeah. I’m gonna crash. Night, Johnny.” 

“Night,” he says, trying to shake off the weirdness of the past few moments. It’s like they went from total intimacy to… something cold and clinical. He scrubs himself in the shower under scalding heat, hot enough to hurt, and climbs into bed feeling uneasy and awkward. He remembers Kristen’s request about his email when he’s turning off the light and clumsily fumbles for his phone, sending her a quick text with just his address. 

It takes him a long time to fall asleep. 

________________________________

The next morning Johnny awakens to an email that says ‘here’s this for now’ and includes an attachment of Bowie’s Modern Love. He saves it to his phone and then sends her back Limelight, before cueing her song up for his run. He ends up listening to it on repeat the entire time and smiling kind of stupidly at passersby who wave back. It feels like something out of a movie, with this soundtrack, and Johnny wonders if that's why Kristen likes it so much. 

He checks his email when he's home and drinking a shake. 

**Limelight's good, yeah, but spirit of the radio is epic**

Johnny grins at his phone before replying. **Agreed. Love the song you sent**. 

**If you hadn’t I wouldn't be able to talk to you anymore**

**Harsh** , he writes back and she replies with a grinning emoticon that's ridiculously cute.

Johnny really wants to bring up last night again, but they seem to have moved past it. He's only back home for another week before the convention and then he needs to make a decision as to where he'll finish out the rest of his training. 

Things start feeling off again with Kristen after that. There aren't any more phone calls for one, even though he didn't really expect that to be a regular thing. He figures she's probably busy while he has all the time in the world. He hangs out at the cabin, invites Davey and Richie and his cousins over and doesn't tell Kristen when he's flying home. He arrives the Thursday morning before the convention and some of the guys want to go out that night.

Saader wants to try a new club and because Saader rarely ever suggests things (unlike Shawzy who can't keep his trap shut for two seconds and no one will ever go for another one of his shitty suggestions again) the guys listen. 

It's exactly Johnny's kind of place, which means it’s sleek and hip and 'douchey' if you ask Kaner but then again it's Kaner's kind of place too so pot-kettle and all that shit.

Johnny's walking through the club, doing a survey of the bar while Sharpy's already taking pics with some fan, when he stops short, bumping into Saader.

"Woah, you okay?"

Johnny blinks, staring at the girl at the bar who looks permanently bored, sipping at her drink with a straw and scanning the crowd. It's Kristen. She has dark brown hair, but it's definitely Kristen.

Saader follows his gaze. "You know her?" he yells over the start of a new song.

Johnny shakes his head immediately. "Nah, just looked familiar."

He claps Saader on the back and they head to the VIP area where bottle service has already arrived.

There's a steady stream of alcohol flowing and therefore there’s really no excuse for Johnny to even make his way over to the bar later, except for the fact that he hasn't been able to stop thinking about her.

She has her back to him as he approaches and Johnny takes in her loose t-shirt, jeans and Converse. She looks like a totally different person.

"Um, hi," Johnny yells over the music and Kristen turns with an annoyed look which is immediately replaced by surprise. She turns back to a girl with long, curly blond hair, whispering something in her ear, before facing Johnny, crossing her legs. Johnny notices the other girl has headed off into the crowd. 

"Fancy meeting you here," Kristen responds, sounding almost too casual. 

"Uh, yeah, back in town for the convention."

"I know," she smirks.

Johnny raises an eyebrow. "You stalkin’ me?" he teases, lips quirked.

"Yeah, that's exactly it, buddy." Then she's nodding to the TV. "They were highlighting it before."

"Gotcha. Um, can I buy you a drink?"

She jostles the glass of liquor in her hand and Johnny feels his cheeks flame. 

"Right."

Kristen laughs at him, not unkindly, and Johnny finds himself thinking how much he loves her smile. 

“You’re all tan,” Kristen says approvingly. “Good time?” 

“Yeah,” Johnny admits. "Your hair…” he says randomly. "I almost didn't recognize you."

Kristen grins ruefully and runs her hand through it. "Yeah, I wear a wig for that. Apparently the red is more ‘alluring and mysterious’ and surprise, that's what dudes are into."

Johnny touches an end strand lightly, and Kristen's eyes follow his movement. It makes sense now, why her hair always looked so perfect. He realizes with a start that he's actually never touched it before tonight and all he wants is to drag his fingers through it.

“I like it," he says, catching her eyes.

He watches her swallow and suddenly he can't think of anything else than her hands on his body and the way she makes him ache with need.

The air feels hot and tight around them as their eyes lock.

Johnny licks his lips. “I wanna see you again,” he says, voice thick.

Kristen drags her tongue over her teeth and he watches her suck in a breath. “You uh, you gotta call Kenny, man.”

Disappointment hits him like a tidal wave, cold and hard. In actuality he knew he couldn't just leave here with her tonight, that it's not what this is, they're not -- 

Despite the phone sex freebie and the texts, she’s making it perfectly clear right now that he’s just another client. Johnny nods and steps back. 

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she echoes, sounding a little dull.

Johnny starts to walk away but stops and turns.

“I just wanted to say… I mean. Thanks. For everything. It's... helping.”

Something crosses her face, but it's gone just as fast. “S’my job, man. Have fun tonight.”

And then she's downing the rest of her drink, slamming her glass on the bar, and disappearing into the crowd.

Johnny doesn't pick anyone up that night, doesn’t even consider it, and then loses himself in the convention the rest of the weekend. Things always wrap up early on Sunday and so he decides to contact Kenny. He hasn't heard from Kristen since the other night but Kenny says she's free. Johnny’s nervous before she arrives, like it’s the first time all over again. He can’t pinpoint why, though. He decides to order up some champagne.

When he opens the door he’s shocked to find she isn’t wearing her wig. 

It must show on his face, because Kristen frowns and touches her hair. “Is this not cool? I brought it, just in case.” 

Johnny shakes his head, furiously. “No, uh. I like you like this.”

Kristen smiles. “Same.” 

“Good,” he says, sincerely, and their gazes lock, something shifting and clicking into place. Kristen breaks the stare first, clearing her throat. “Uh, so.” 

She's wearing the leather shoes again and a short skirt with a tank top and cropped jacket.

“Did you want some champagne?” Johnny asks in a rush. 

Kristen raises her eyebrow, standing in the middle room by the table where it’s set up. “Not really supposed to drink on the job, man, but…” She eyes it again, and Johnny feels embarrassed by the roses that are there but that’s what the guy brought up on the cart. 

“What the hell?” she finishes, and he exhales. 

He moves to pour them both a glass. “Are you hungry? I could order something.”

Kristen eyes him skeptically as she takes the glass from his hands. “You're acting weird,” she says decisively, grinning around the rim. 

“Whatever,” he mumbles and she just grins some more until he can’t help but smiling back, his chest feeling full. 

Pretty soon they're making out on the couch again, Kristen holding his hands against the cushions as she grinds against him. She pours some of champagne into his mouth from the bottle and Johnny is so turned on it’s ridiculous. 

“What do you want?” she gasps and he immediately flashes to that night on the phone and how he came without touching himself.

“This,” he says. “On the bed, with my hands tied.”

“Okay,” Kristen says, climbing off him. “Strip to your boxers.”

Johnny does and she gets some cloth to tie his arms round his back before lying down the bed and settling so she's flush against him, both of them on their sides.

They kiss until his lips feel numb, wet, slow and deep. She bites at his mouth and Johnny's breathing hitches, unable to stop the twist of his hips. Kristen gives him the friction he needs and suddenly he's riding her thigh, her leg wrapped tight around him, her hands squeezing his ass.

She's panting out shallow breaths against him and they’re incredible to hear.

“Kristen,” Johnny bites out, kissing along her jaw. The air is hot and heavy around them, their breaths mingling, everything feeling hazy and perfect. She noses at his neck, biting down on his skin. 

“Are you gonna come just like this?”

“Yes,” he gasps, hissing as she tugs on his earlobe. He's thinking about the other night on the phone and he hopes she is too.

Her hands squeeze his ass harder and the pace of their hips increases.

“Come on, Johnny,” Kristen coaxes.

Their mouths meet in a bruising, desperate kiss and he comes, sobbing against her lips, his hips jerking wildly. 

They keep kissing as he comes down, licking into one another’s mouths slow and dreamy, just breathing against one another, before Kristen undoes the knots to release his hands. They shift onto their backs and stare at the ceiling, chests heaving. Kristen hoists herself up and Johnny watches her go, feeling languid and sated. She returns with a washcloth and starts cleaning him while he kicks off his boxers. 

Johnny gets up to tug on a new pair (he always makes sure to bring one with him) and regards her. She's still dressed and he wants to make her come but he isn't even sure if she's turned on.

He watches her put the ties away and sits helplessly at the foot of the bed. 

“Are you. I mean, are you good?”

“Yeah, sure.” Kristen says, looking up with a smile. “I should go, dude.”

Johnny nods, swallowing down the irrational desire to ask her to stay. That’s only happened when one of them was too tired to move. 

He walks her to the door, feeling awkward. Kristen turns to him as they reach it, looking up with clear, gorgeous eyes. Johnny can't help leaning down to take her face in his hands and press their lips together in a sweet, gentle kiss that ends up making his breath catch in his throat.

When he pulls back she’s staring at him, eyes large and looking ridiculously young. 

“I, uh, hope tonight wasn’t too dull.”

“I’m here for you,” Kristen say, putting emphasis on the last word and sounding almost confused, like she’s wondering why Johnny is even questioning or caring.

“I know that. I -- I haven’t forgotten that,” he adds hastily, hoping she isn’t getting freaked out. He’s trying so hard to play this cool, now that he’s constantly biting down the desire to ask her out -- to tell her he wants this to be about _them_ , if she’d have him for real. Johnny shakes his head, letting out a small sound of frustration at himself. “I just hope you… I don’t know.”

“Johnny,” Kristen says, voice serious and firm and it makes him look at her, dead on. “I had a good time.” Her voice turns soft at the edges and he nods, solemnly. 

Kristen holds his gaze and it’s like everything stops around them, like they’re back in the bar again on Thursday night, where the air felt thick and suffocating and he could barely breathe from the tension curling around them. 

Johnny has no idea who moves first but before he knows it their mouths are on one another, desperate and hungry as Johnny lifts her off the ground and slams her against the door. Kristen moans deeply into his mouth and digs her heels into the small of his back. 

He presses her against the door, tilting his hips against her body, feeling his cock twitch already. Her hands are grabbing at him, smoothing over his shoulders and down his arms. Johnny turns and walks them to the bed, dropping her onto it and immediately covering her body. He runs his fingers through her hair, down her neck, and over her chest to squeeze her tits together over her shirt. She keens into the touch, arching her back. Johnny's never touched her this way before -- has barely touched her at all except with his mouth --and the way she seems to be craving it as much as he is makes his stomach flip and his pulse race. 

Kristen rolls on top of him, biting at his lips and not breaking the kiss. Johnny's hands immediately find her ass and Kristen groans at the touch, letting out a small succession of breath. Kristen ducks to kiss along his chest then follows the trail back upwards. Johnny throws his head back as she sucks what's sure to be bruise just under the hinge of his jaw. Johnny's fingers inch beneath her shirt, greedily filling his hands with as much skin as he can. 

They’re pressed together tight, Johnny’s dick hard and dragging against her thigh as he thrusts against her. Kristen shifts back so they both can get her shirt and bra off and then Johnny's on top of her again, sucking and licking at her tit while she cards her fingers through his hair and moans, low and deep. 

"I want you so fucking bad," he grits out after shifting the focus to her right breast.

"Get something," she gasps out.

"Huh?” Johnny asks vaguely as he's pressing open mouthed kisses down her stomach.

"Condom, rubber, glove it up," she pants, stomach quivering beneath his lips. 

"’Kay," Johnny says mindlessly, brain shorting out. He fumbles for the top drawer of the bedside table where he made sure to stash some just in case. 

Kristen runs her hands up and down his thighs and pulls his dick out of his boxers while he's sitting back and ripping it open.

He loses his concentration for a minute, forehead creasing. He hears Kristen laugh, so it was probably her intention all along.

Johnny rolls onto his side to kick off his underwear and put the condom on and when he looks over again, Kristen's naked and lounging back against the pillows with a grin on her face but also a vulnerability he's not sure he's seen from her before. 

He crawls up her body and kisses her deeply, cupping her face in his hands. Kristen kisses back, licking between his lips and drawing him in even closer.

Johnny watches her face as he pushes in, watches the way her teeth sink into her bottom lip and her eyes fall shut on a gasp.

"You feel so good," he whispers against her cheek, kissing her flushed skin there.

"So do you," Kristen replies, voice soft. 

Johnny touches her everywhere he can as they start moving; drags his hands through her hair, down her neck, over her breasts. Kristen's hands seem to alternate from his back to his ass, depending on if she wants to move him along faster. Before long he's fucking her into the mattress, the headboard slamming against the wall with every down stroke.

Kristen's legs are practically over his shoulder and Johnny can't break away from the seal of their mouths, even though he's gasping for breath. She's shaking when he drops his hand to her clit, rubbing at it in small circles as her pussy clenches around his dick.

Just then Kristen lets out a low, sobbing moan, and he knows that sound well already. 

"Did you--"

Kristen nods against his lips, almost hiccupping for breath, scraping at his scalp with her nails.

“Yeah. Yeah, but keep going. Don't stop.”

Johnny groans and fucks her harder, pulling her legs up higher so they're hooked over his shoulders now. 

Kristen gasps and moans again, her fingers pressing firmly against his shoulders. 

Johnny pulls back to regard her, the way her hair is a fucking mess, the way her eyes are blown and her face is flushed.

“You're incredible,” he says reverently, kissing her mouth, her jaw, dragging his palms over her thighs.

Kristen laughs a little but it trails off into a gasp when he slams forward again. Johnny's hips start stuttering in short, uneven jerks and he buries his face in her neck as he comes hard, groaning out her name.

He drops down against her, easing her legs down and pressing a kiss to her hair before pulling out. 

"Shit," Johnny says in wonder, lying down next to her, chest still heaving.

He looks over to where Kristen is pushing her bangs away from her face, breasts rising and falling as she regains her own breathing.

"No kidding," Kristen responds dryly.

Johnny laughs, kissing her shoulder and feeling dazed, his mind turning in a million directions. They lay in silence while Johnny catalogs what they just did. The fact that he had regular sex without it feeling in any way inadequate isn’t something that's happened in... far too long. It makes sense that it happened with Kristen, though. 

He doesn't know what this says about him. Or if it says anything at all. He knows what he likes now, and that was the point, but he can apparently still enjoy it if someone isn't willing to give that to him. Except he knows that it also wasn't just anyone tonight; it's because it was Kristen and he's fucking crazy about her. Besides, he doesn't want to go back to repressing what he wants just because he might be able to enjoy it otherwise as well. 

"Yo, you falling asleep?" she asks, sounding a little apprehensive. Johnny opens his eyes and turns to her. She's biting her lip.

"Thinking," he admits.

"And here I thought you were a big, dumb jock." Kristen grins.

Johnny pulls back, mock affronted, eyebrow raised. "You stereotypin' me?"

"If the type fits," Kristen says, choking through her laughter. Johnny shakes his head at her but he's smiling like an idiot, totally caught up in her infectious sounds.

They trail off, just grinning at one another, and then Kristen's pulling him in for a kiss. She freezes a second into it, like she hadn't meant to do it, and makes to pull away but Johnny just laces their fingers together and presses his mouth firmly against hers, tongue darting out to coax her lips apart. Kristen sighs against him as their mouths move, slow and slick.

Johnny pulls back and traces his fingertip down the side of her face, steeling himself for what he's about to do.

“That's what I was thinking about.”

“Huh?”

He bites his lip. They probably shouldn't have this conversation naked but Johnny can't wait anymore, not after tonight and how he's feeling. And he knows she's got to be feeling something too. What they just did was out of pure desire and nothing more. If nothing else, he knows she at least wants him on a baser level. 

“I want. Uh. I don’t know if you’re seeing anyone, but, uh. What do you say to going on a date?” Johnny asks. Kristen's staring at him blankly and so he adds inanely, “With me.”

"I’m single, but I don't date clients," Kristen says evenly, and Johnny feels the words like a blow to the head.

He blinks a few times and really, really wishes he hadn't chosen to do this naked. Johnny figures if he's going to be mortified, he might as well get it all over with at once and continues on. 

“No I didn't think you did, but uh. What if I wasn't, anymore. What if I was just your boyfriend?”

“My boyfriend,” she repeats, dully. 

Johnny scrubs at his face. “Yeah I. I wouldn't ask you to stop working, obviously. I just. I really--”

Kristen sits up abruptly, shaking her head. “Man, you're like, getting all confused, okay? This was supposed to be about you being able to just be comfortable with what you want and finding someone to date and shit. And now you're all --” She waves her hand in the air, vaguely, “All because we fucked without a scene and you're thinking I'm some magician or something.”

Kristen reaches for her shirt, tossing it on before shimming into her underwear while on her back. Johnny tears his gaze away from her body.

“I'm not,” Johnny protests. “I've been feeling this way for a while.”

Kristen shakes her head again, standing.

“You’re, like, suffering from Stockholm Syndrome.”

“I’ve never really figured out what that is exactly, but I doubt it.”

Kristen laughs incredulously, dragging her hands through her hair. Johnny takes the opportunity to throw on his boxers.

“So you're…” Kristen starts, before pausing and staring at him like he's crazy. “You're saying you've been into me, in a more than just sex way, for a while.” 

Johnny nods, wincing. "I'm starting to realize that's not really so original, is it. You probably, uh, get this a lot in your profession.” He really wishes he could crawl into a hole right now. 

Kristen tilts her head, looking at him consideringly.

“You've been my only client. For a while.”

That’s the absolute last thing he expected to hear. “Huh?”

Kristen nods, and takes a step closer to him.

“I was basically quitting right before I met you. I’ve got a pretty steady job at an exam tutoring center. I had one other regular before I took you on and then, uh. Then pretty soon it was just you and I... didn’t really wanna stop. I just started going back to school this summer for my Bachelor’s in English so it's not like I couldn't use the money. It was more than anyone else paid -- I think Kenny totally jacked up the price on you, man -- but, uh. It was more than that, too.”

Kristen pauses to take a breath and Johnny nods at her in encouragement, even though his chest feels constricted.

“I loved doing this to begin with because it, uh, lets me wear masks, you know? And it, like, lets me learn a lot about myself. There’s so much shit that people compartmentalize, and we’re like, always sort of different people with various people in our lives. It’s not that these parts of me don’t exist -- they do, you know? But I can show them to some and hide them with others and still be true to myself. But with you, I can… I can combine the two. And I’m just… me. More than I’ve been with anyone else, in a long time.”

Johnny’s head is spinning from her words, both at the openness she’s displaying with him right now and what she’s ultimately saying. 

“So. Uh, wow. So, you mean-- you’re saying --” He can’t get his mouth to work properly and she takes pity on him, smirking as she steps into his space and grasps his wrists. It's like all the tension immediately leaves his body as her touch steadies him. 

“I'm saying you're not the first client to ask me out, but you're the only one I've hoped would.”

Johnny smiles so hard his cheeks hurt.

“And even though I think we’re gonna drive each other crazy,” she continues, dragging her fingernails up his forearms. “Yes, you can take me on a date.”

Johnny leans down to rest their foreheads together, still smiling. “We won’t.” 

Kristen barks out a laugh. “Dude, you haven’t dealt with my psycho on a consistent basis. You’ve got no idea.” 

“I’m not worried,” he says honestly, and bends to kiss her.  
_________________________

Johnny decides to stick around and do the rest of his training in town. It’s not like it was a difficult decision to make now. He takes Kristen out to dinner the next night and the first thing she says when she picks him up at her place is, “First disillusion: this is me. Those dresses and skirts? Don’t expect it.” 

She spins around, showing off her Black Flag t-shirt, skinny jeans, and Converse. She’s also wearing glasses. “You still down?” 

Johnny rolls his eyes. “No, I changed my mind.” He swoops her in for a kiss and feels her grin against his lips. 

“Just checkin’, man.” 

Johnny gets a tour of her place and meets her dogs before they head off. When Kristen gets talking, it’s like it’s a race. She jumps from topic to topic -- the state of the Education system, politics, new books -- and although Johnny feels he can barely keep up at times he’s pretty sure he’s going to have fun trying. He booked a place for dinner that wasn’t overly fancy but Kristen still calls the whole thing stupidly romantic, right down to the dessert they share, and she pretends to throw up.

It becomes a pattern over the next few weeks: Johnny taking her out on dates that she classifies as super cheesy and Kristen pretending to gag at least once a night. But then she ties him up at the end of the evening and sometimes gags him for real and it’s all good. 

Johnny’s twenty-six years old and he finally knows what, and who, he wants.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Music notes that no one cares about: 1) I finally, finally threw in a Rush reference wtr to Tazer that’s been a long time coming – basically because I watched an interview in which KStew admitted to seeing Rush at a young age and how, like she says in the story, ‘that was cool, I guess?’  
> 2) I’ve now used Bowie + KStew references at least twice and I was rewarded this week by her [wearing](https://24.media.tumblr.com/f03658685918f215079c3b32bca8f8e1/tumblr_mxfthp7PWw1rk0wp3o1_500.jpg) his shirt.


End file.
